When We Were Young
by TheConsultingAuthor
Summary: Back in those days, we had no qualms, no cares. Is there really no hope that we'll rediscover that bond, my dear brother? This is simply a story about Sherlock and Mycroft's childhood life.
1. Chapter 1: The Brothers

**A/N**

_This is one of the first fics I wrote. My goodness. I always loved the idea of peering into Sherlock's past a bit, as well as revealing background on Mycroft. I feel like he's always so under-appreciated; I absolutely love his character. The two are five years apart by my mind's standards, aged 17 and 12, respectively._

_Anyways, this is the product of a mind groping around for reasons as to why Sherlock is the way he is when it comes to relationships. I have a feeling the story as a whole will be adequately balanced between him and his older brother, so expect Mycroft to be present quite regularly._

_I threw in a random character of my own - a girl called Adrianna - as a sort of pre-John character. We'll see how long she sticks around. As appealing as Kid!Lock is, I really don't get into the thought of Watson and Holmes being childhood friends. _

_(Shocking) Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of its characters. This is purely for fun, not for profit._

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><p>Mycroft sat alone at the dinner table, ignoring his breakfast by busying himself with the morning paper. He perused the articles with bored eyes; stocks were falling again today (they'll rebound in no time), a woman's flat had been burgled (her eldest son out of the nest, most likely, given the lack of forced-entry signs), and London was - yet again - holding a large farmers market and bazaar on the riverside to promote purchasing local goods. Nothing exciting ever happened.<p>

A sigh escaped the 17-year-old's mouth as he turned his attention back to the now-cold toast with jam. How he wished the world could offer its citizens just a bit of excitement outside of buying locally-grown tomatoes. For a moment he pondered the possibility of trying a foreign exchange program just to shake things up a bit. Maybe a change of pace would help him readjust his perspective on London. The idea was quickly shrugged off, though. He was responsible for something far too important here at home; he couldn't abandon it for any reason.

Mycroft took another bite of partially-soggy toast and a sip of tea before gathering his books for school. He straightened his tie before rising from his seat; about that time, he heard the _pat pat pat _of bare feet on the wooden floor, slowly - and sleepily - making their way into the kitchen. His younger brother entered the kitchen, donning nothing more than a bed sheet. Mycroft stared as the boy groggily made his way to the fridge, standing in front of it a minute before finally removing a carton of milk.

"Morning, Myc." yawned the young boy as he began to make himself a cup of tea. His dark curls fell lazily off his head.

"Sherlock, you know what Mummy has said about wearing clothes. Young gentlemen should wear pants in community spaces…" Mycroft tried to retain his composure in the presence of his younger brother. He couldn't help letting a small smile spread cross his lips, though. The little things Sherlock did always seemed humorous to him.

"mmmmmmmhm..." Sherlock was barely listening as he finished making his brew, replacing the milk in the refrigerator. He turned towards Mycroft and gave him an un-amused stare. Only twelve years old and already he could pull off such an adult look. It was incredible how quickly the boy was growing up.

"Just put on some pants, Lockie. I would rather not have you scolded by either of our parents this early in the day." Mycroft was sincere in his words, though he could see Sherlock's suspicion dancing like a fire in his bright eyes.

"I don't think they'd be able to find the time in their schedules to do that. Not today, at least. Maybe I should call father's assistant and have him pencil me in for a scolding tomorrow night, after supper. That'd be the only way he'd see me." Sherlock rolled his eyes and sipped delicately at his tea. Though they were meant to be sarcastic, his words carried a heavy truth; both mummy and father were too busy to care if their boys were wearing pants or not. Mycroft let out another sigh.

"Then you put on pants because _I_ said so." The comment merely provoked a roll of the eyes from the young boy. "And if they're not on by the time I return from classes, I won't take you to the library today." he didn't bother commenting on how Sherlock should be at school today. He knew how much hell the place gave him, and he really didn't want his brother to feel stressed out today. Not with such an important dinner tonight.

The comment got his attention. "But Myc! You promised! You... Myc! You can't do that!" he loudly protested. His large eyes and desperate look were enough to break anyone's heart. But Mycroft held firm.

"I will take you if - and only if - you are properly dressed by the time I get home. Are we clear?" he raised an eyebrow to his brother.

Sherlock was quiet for a moment before quietly responding. "Yes, Mycroft." he looked down to his tea before taking another drink.

"Thank you, Sherlock. Be sure to find your library card, too. Wouldn't want to be unable to rent any of the books you find, would you?" He gave his brother a quick pat on the head, which earned him a slap on the wrist from the young one. They both smirked at each other. "I don't have time for a fight right now; I'm running late." he ruffled Sherlock's hair before heading to the door. "See you soon, Lockie!"

The door shut with a click, the last sound before a wave of silence swept over the house. And since he hadn't anything better to do, Sherlock trudged off to his room in search of some trousers. No way he'd miss the regular library visit over a few articles of clothing.

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><p>Sherlock had a room big enough to fit a few queen-sized beds in comfortably. He wasn't spoiled, per say, as the room was nearly bare; a bookcase inhabited the southern wall, his bed preoccupied a space near the windows on the western wall, and a few little toys or trinkets dotted an area near the foot of the bed. A violin and accompanying stand were placed by another window at the southern wall. Otherwise, the room was empty.<p>

The young boy took a look around his abode with a sigh. He hated when Mycroft would pull that role - the whole _I'm older than you and have more power over you than you'd like so you have to listen to me_ act. He didn't like to admit it openly, but he respected Myc deeply for the way he handled their relationship. He was the most important person in Sherlock's life, the one person whom he could turn to in any time of need. Mycroft was a brother, role model, and friend to the younger boy, something which was hard to come by in this life of his.

Sherlock hadn't really made any friends at school; he'd been promoted a grade back in his third year, so his smarts were enough to garner negative attention from the other kids. Add his thin stature and sharp tongue to the mix and you had the perfect victim for any bully school-wide.

Most of the time he instead holed himself in the public library - there was a girl there who he would talk to from time to time. Her name was Adrianna, a year younger from a similar family with money and privileges they didn't necessarily deserve. She loved books almost as much as Sherlock did; and occasionally (when Sherlock felt like talking) they would spend a good thirty minutes or so discussing books and stories they enjoyed. Both shared a passion for adventure and mysteries; "How great would it be to wake up and know that excitement was promised to you every single day of your life? Never would you have to flip through the Telly channels to try and amuse yourself. Just walk out the front door and get swept up in and adventure! Brilliant!" the two often mused about such things, laughing and dreaming with wide eyes and high hopes.

He didn't mind Adrianna's company so much. She actually listened to him when he had things to say, and she left him alone when he wanted to think. On top of this, she didn't mind his abrupt manner and smartass attitude; she would giggle at the quips he made, flutter her eyelashes, and give him the brightest smile he'd ever seen. He knew Adrianna liked him - only an idiot would be so blind to such a thing - and he thought that... Maybe he liked her too. At the very least, he felt strangely empty when she was absent.

But that was something hard to think about for him. He'd seen Myc bring home girlfriends and break up with girls and maybe even shed a few tears for that last girl he dated - they were together for a year and a half before she decided she "loved him like a brother." Myc had sulked for a couple weeks because she was all he had thought about for the better part of a year. He then took up the mantra "caring is not an advantage," something which rarely crossed his lips. It was only brought about when he couldn't deal with a situation.

Deep inside, Sherlock was happy the couple went their separate ways; it meant his older brother had more time to play. But based on what he'd seen from Mycroft's experience, he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with such an unattractive emotional roller coaster. Girls seemed like too much trouble at the end of the day.

Still, he entertained the thought of holding Adrianna's hand from time to time. He could tell she used a light lotion every day by the way her cuticles perfectly encompassed her delicate fingernails (a lotion scented with lavender and lilac that smelled wonderful to him) and bet that her hands were softer than any feathery blanket his father's money could buy. She wouldn't be so bad to hold hands with, since she probably wouldn't say anything about it. Adrianna could always tell when Sherlock wanted quiet, so he was positive she would know that such an action would require an analysis of its every detail.

Other than Adrianna or Mycroft, though, Sherlock was alone. Not a friend to his name, no adults to trust when things got bad. Nothing. And he wasn't particularly upset by it all - he really enjoyed being alone. But sometimes he would wonder why he couldn't have been born in a position where he could have a few friends to play with at recess or to invite over for birthdays. Everyone else had them, so why not him? Even Myc had a small group that would come over for studying parties. The thought of being friendless always put him in a bad mood, so it would be pushed away as quickly as possible.

Sherlock dug through his closet to find a comfortable pair of trousers before picking up his violin to practice a few pieces by Bach. He played a few he knew by heart already - letting the music wash over him and sweep him up into a peaceful place with no time - before tackling a more difficult piece for an hour. Once he had three lines and four bars completely memorized, he placed the instrument back in its case and went to lie on the bed and think.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but before he knew it Mycroft was back home and trudging to his room. Sounds like he talked to that ex of his, unsuccessfully, Sherlock thought. Mycroft's footsteps always became a bit less delicate when he had a stressful day.

Sherlock pocketed his library card from the top of his dresser and headed out of his room, down the hall to his brother's dwelling. The door was shut and Mycroft could be heard inside, sighing and moping about. Sherlock made no point to politely enter the room; he opened the door and made himself at home on the end of the bed, sitting with crossed legs facing toward the older boy. Mycroft peeked at Sherlock through his fingers, an annoyed look creeping over his face.

"Lockie, do you mind?" he whispered with a hint of aggression. The younger boy gave his brother a look of feigned sympathy. Mycroft wasn't buying it though, and it soon fell off Sherlock's face.

"Not really. I'll wait until you get Mary out of your head. Do make it quick though; library closes in a couple hours." he poked Mycroft's hand with a delicate finger before folding his hands under his chin to watch his older brother's reaction.

Another sigh escaped Mycroft's mouth. "I wasn't thinking about... Mary." his brief pause only confirmed Sherlock's suspicions.

"mmmmmhm and I wasn't hoping that I could find a new book about pirates today. Something like Treasure Island would be nice." Sherlock gave his brother another poke. "I even found my good trousers so you would be happy. See?" he jumped from the bed and gestured to his pants. "And they're actually clean. You should be chuffed as chips."

Mycroft rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the grin from spreading on his face. "Yes. Well done, I'll be sure to give you an award for that later. Perhaps tea at Buckingham Palace will suffice. When did you want to head out?"

"This morning. But you were too busy so I'll settle for three minutes from now instead." he headed to the door as Mycroft grabbed his umbrella and wallet. "And Myc, I'll hold you to that. Tea in Buckingham Palace; I choose whether or not I wish to wear pants, though." a grin spread across his little face before he turned to leave the room.

"That'll be the day," Mycroft called after him. "I'm sure we'll both be standing in the palace, me in a suit and you without pants. I can see it now." he laughed as he followed the younger boy out the house and towards the library.


	2. Chapter 2: The Library

A/N

_Chapter two already? Oh my. This one has quite a bit of Adrianna in it; I'm still not certain how I want to proceed with her character. It's touchy - I don't want things to turn into a love story, but a part of my mind thinks there needs to be some sort of emotional drabble between her and Sherlock. Even if it's just momentarily._

_Anyways; the inspiration for the pirate story is loosely based off of Sherlock's story itself - the lonely and amazing captain who needs to constantly preoccupy himself with adventures and amazing objects to stay happy, and the lovely partner who would follow the madman to the ends of the earth and back (against better judgement) to protect him._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or any of its characters. Big shock._

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><p>Adrianna was at the back table, engrossed in a book with a distinctive leather cover and at least five-hundred pages. She didn't even notice Sherlock climb into a chair across from her, cracking open a book of his own. Before long, he was completely immersed in the story; it took a few moments to realize his name being called by the girl opposite him.<p>

"Good story?" she smiled.

He nodded and showed her the cover. "It's about -"

"Pirates?" she interrupted and laughed when the look of intrigue spread across his face. "I could predict it from the last couple books you've read. And I could tell you were going to ask how I knew because of that look you've got on your face." She turned her attention back to her own book as he continued to analyze her. Was he really that predictable?

The two read in quiet for a while. Sherlock's book was delightful: In it, a Captain sailed across the Indian Ocean in search of fine silks, jewels, and gold. The man commanded his ship flawlessly, overtaking many smaller vessels along the way to find the ship of his arch-enemy. The ship stopped in a small port for some much needed rest and relaxation; there, he found a beautiful girl whose movements were as fluid as the ocean itself. The moment they locked eyes, they fell in love – soul mates, the book called it. Within no time at all, the captain asked the maiden to be his, showering her in lavish goods and sweet affections. The girl was afraid to love a pirate, taught by her parents and community that such a breed was nothing more than a lot of drunkards and ne'er-do-wells who held nothing in their future besides a date with the gallows. But because he was so convincing in his display of interest, the girl went against her better judgment and joined him. The two continued venturing the high seas together, in search of a life always full of excitement.

He hadn't expected it to turn into a love story, but somehow he couldn't put it down. Usually (particularly when he had to read books for school reports) if whatever he was reading contained a hint of a sappy love story, he'd shut the top promptly and discard every memory he had of it. But for some reason, he couldn't put this one down. Sherlock's eyes flicked across the table to Adrianna, who was still enthralled in her own book. Before his mind registered what was happening, he'd taken a deep breath and started talking.

"Adrianna..." he spoke her name with a low tone. She looked up with a smile.

"What's up, Sherlie?" He glowered at the pet name she'd given him, only making her grin grow larger. When he didn't continue, she corrected herself. "What's up, Sherlock?"

He hesitated a minute before continuing. "Do you ever think of... Well... Have you ever thought of what it feels like to hold hands with a girl? Er... Boy, in your case." His voice trailed off and he could feel his face getting red. Why. Why did he bring this up? He just wanted a nice and quiet trip to find a book about pirates, not to scare away the closest thing to a friend he had. He braced himself for a simple rejection and was shocked to, instead, hear a giggle escape her lips. He looked up with wide, inquisitive eyes.

She closed the cover of her book before looking up at him with a honest smile. "Well of course I have. I mean, I've held hands with that one boy from the year above you - Richard is his name - but that was because it was a dare and Suzie wouldn't shut up until we did. So it wasn't anything spectacular." She laughed a little before continuing. "My sister says that when you hold hands with a boy you really like, it feels like your heart is going to burst from happiness and your head is going to go black from utter joy. She said that when she held hands with your brother, the world stopped spinning. But that sounds scary to me! If the world stopped, then how would we get to have night time again?"

"I'm... Not sure. Sounds like nothing more than a phrase to me. I doubt that holding hands could do that." He looked at his hand. _The world stops spinning when you like them._ _Interesting._

"Well they did more than hold hands, but I'm not sure what kind of things. She would always turn red and look away when I asked too much. I bet they kissed a few times." Adrianna made a face before continuing. "She really liked Myc, though... And she would always come home smiling when he held hands with her." Adrianna let a distant look of thought crawl across her face, allowing Sherlock to deduce her train of thought for a few moments. She missed his brother and her sister dating. But why? The thought was cut short as she looked to him with curious eyes. "Now... Why would you be asking me such a thing, I wonder?"

Sherlock flushed a shade of pink and furrowed his brow a bit as she smiled at him with knowing eyes. "It's not what you're thinking, you git." he managed to get out. "Myc was thinking about it earlier and it got me curious. Besides, this book… well. They were soul mates – the ruthless captain and the caring inn-girl."

"Ahhhh… Right, right. Sounds like a good story - not something I thought you'd read, to be honest." She cracked her book open again, knowing that Sherlock would need some time to regain his composure.

Before long, Mycroft was ready to check out and head home. Sherlock started to protest but quickly shut up as Myc gave him a look of annoyance. No point in causing a scene and getting tossed from the library. Luckily for Sherlock, Adrianna also decided that she was ready to check out and head home. The trio headed towards the front desk, the two younger lagging a bit behind the eldest. They were quiet, but none felt uncomfortable with the silence by any means.

They slowed down as they neared the desk, still walking forward but with a bit more casualty in their strides. It was then that Sherlock felt Adrianna's fingers slide into his hand. He was surprised and didn't quite know how to react; he returned her favor by lacing his own fingers with hers and turning a bright shade of red. She quietly giggled as she felt his hand give hers a squeeze, as if he were trying to confirm that this was real.

Mycroft gave his little brother a backwards glance and smile without being seen. He was happy that the boy was opening up to Adrianna; it was about time he began to leave his comfort zone and let others in. The elder brother said nothing as he turned to grab Sherlock's book for checkout. The younger one gave him a look of something similar to a joyous fear, peppered generously with traces of confusion. Mycroft just raised his eyebrows and smiled at his brother before turning around to rent the small pile of books they'd accumulated.

Sherlock's mind had calmed down enough to think straight by the time they reached the outside door. He turned to Adrianna, her delicate hand still in his. He looked down at the pair of them before speaking. "So did the world stop for you?"

"I'm not sure. It looks like it's still turning out there." She looked out the window with a smile before turning back to face him. A bit of disappointment spread across Sherlock's face. "Nope, it definitely didn't stop the world. But it felt like fireworks were going off inside my heart and butterflies were dancing in my stomach." The girl gave him a sincere smile, one which he returned honestly.

Mycroft helped the two kids outside as Sherlock processed what Adrianna had told him. The gears were rapidly spinning as he tried to deduce his own feelings in regards to holding her hand. He stopped near a tree and spoke delicately, trying to keep Myc from hearing anything. "Adrianna, hang on." When he was certain his brother was out of earshot, he continued.

"I thought my mind was going to stay black forever. And I think I had some... Butterflies too." he flushed a light shade of pink as he looked into her sapphire eyes. "I think... Well... Um... Maybe it would be ok for you to... Maybe you could come over and play pirates sometime?" She looked at him happily. "I know girls aren't supposed to be pirates, but I could make an exception for you."

She giggled. "Sherlock Holmes, you will eat those words! I'll show you that a girl makes a hundred-times better pirate than any boy!" She released his hand to motion at him as if she were holding a sword. He grinned merrily and returned the gesture.

"We shall see, Miss Adrianna Pickette!" The two staged a fight before falling into a fit of laughter on the grass nearby. Mycroft looked on happily before calling Sherlock back over.

"Sherlock! Our car is here!" Sherlock bolted upright and shook all the stray strands of grass from his trousers.

"Well that was fun. What day can you come over?" He helped her up and brushed some grass from her hair.

"I think Friday will work for me." She smiled as she picked a leaf from his dark curls.

"Friday it is then. Be prepared to walk the plank, Adrianna!" he took off toward the car. "Until next time!" Sherlock shouted as she waved goodbye.

When he finally made it into the car, he let a happy sigh cross his lips. A smile overcame him as he slid down in his seat a bit. Mycroft gave him a curious look but said nothing. The two were silent all the way home.

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><p>"Father has requested that you wear this for tonight's dinner." Mycroft handed his younger brother a black suit accented by a blue tie with a bored look. "And please do change posthaste. I really don't wish to be scolded because you refuse to wear 'confining clothing.' You'll be able to survive for a few hours in it, Lockie."<p>

"Myc, you are an idiot if you think that's going to make me wear this." Sherlock gave his older brother a look of defiance, almost smug about it all. Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"And you're a twit if you believe I'm going to stand here and tolerate such a lack of manners. Get dressed so they'll allow you to have your girlfriend over on Friday." He turned for the door.

The younger Holmes raised his voice. "She's not my girlfriend! She's just a girl I talk to! I don't have any friends, remember?" Sherlock threw a shoe towards his brother as the door clicked close. He really hated Myc sometimes.

He gave the suit a once-over with a look of disdain. Father had invited his coworkers over to show off his perfect family and perfect house and perfect son, Mycroft, who was guaranteed to have loads of money and power in the future (according to father; Sherlock always thought he would wind up with a wife, daughter, and three cats somewhere in the suburbs, eating cake all day. Mycroft powerful? Hah, yeah right.) Sherlock huffed as he changed his clothes for his brother. He most certainly was not doing this for father.

Once confined in the necktie, Sherlock headed to Mycroft's room. He opened the door without knocking and threw a small punch at his brother, who was adjusting his vest in the mirror. "We're not boyfriend and girlfriend. We're just friends." He wouldn't look Mycroft in the eyes for a few moments; rather, he preoccupied himself with flicking the buttons on his older brother's suit coat.

Mycroft gave him a curious look. "Yes… Of course. I misspoke. Apologies, Lockie." He ruffled the younger boy's hair gently before bending down to straighten his ice-blue tie. Sherlock looked up to meet his eyes with a solemn look across his face.

"Do you think she really... Likes me? I can't stand myself sometimes. I don't know why in the world she would -" he was cut off by a look of pain that crossed Mycroft's face. He knew Sherlock had some self-esteem issues, but he hated hearing such speech leave his brother's mouth.

"Lockie... Of course she likes you. You already know that, though - you just don't know how to respond to it. Yes, sometimes people get annoyed at how you act. But that's normal. You get annoyed at me from time to time, right?" The younger Holmes simply nodded, biting his lip and trying to remain calm. He kept his eyes low as Mycroft continued. "That's simply how people react when they're exposed to the same person for far too long. But there are people who will come into your life; they'll rarely be annoyed with you. Or if they are, they won't care - because at the end of the day, they enjoy your company far too much to let you go. Those are the people who you call friends - the ones who stay loyal no matter the situation. The ones who you would jump in front of a bullet to protect."

Sherlock looked up at his brother and could see he was earnest in his speech. He blinked back a few tears that were trying to surface. Only in front of Mycroft would he allow himself to appear so vulnerable. He walked forward a step, closer to his brother, and rested his forehead against the older one's chest. He kept his hands at his side, but felt a bit of comfort just staying like this. Mycroft gave him a small hug to try and lift his moods a bit more.

"I really don't like girls. They make my head and heart feel funny. Like I can't operate correctly." Mycroft laughed at this.

"They can have that effect on a man at times. But never you mind; we do the same thing to them and their thoughts." He held his brother's shoulders firmly and gave him a smile before turning away. "Dinner in fifteen minutes, Lockie. Be down in five; Mummy wants a photo of her little pirate dressed like an actual gentleman."

Sherlock gave his brother a gentle smack on the arm before heading after him. "It's just a disguise. I'll be back to my normal attire by the night's end."

"I honestly do hope that attire involves a pair of pants." The boys giggled as they headed toward the main hallway. Tonight was going to be a pain to tolerate, but this moment helped to relieve some of the impending stress. Sherlock was happy he had Mycroft to suffer with through this.


	3. Chapter 3: Pirates

**A/N**

_Sorry this chapter is so short; I was going to add more, but decided the length was good enough for now. _

_Adrianna's been invited over, and we get a small peek of a playful pair of brothers. Thank you for reading._

_Some more disclaiming: I do not own Sherlock or its characters. Only in my dreams._

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><p>Friday came more quickly than expected. Sherlock was already working away in the living room, rearranging furniture and pillows to create a ship. He had a stack of blankets on the floor nearby - sails all waiting to be hoisted high into the skies so they could set sail. A few plastic swords sat a few feet away, ready to grab in the event of an attack. He was trying to think of a way to create a cannon when the doorbell rang. His mother hurried to answer the door.<p>

"Oh! How pleasant to see you! And this must be Adrianna!" She ushered the guests inside. "I've heard quite a bit about you from a certain young gentleman, my dear." Sherlock couldn't help but feel annoyed that his mother pronounced such a thing so openly. "I do believe he's in the front parlor, rearranging the furniture for your adventures." He heard three pairs of feet enter the room and looked up from the couch to silently greet them.

The two women left the room after a brief "hello" and "how do you do," heading to the kitchen for some tea. Sherlock turned his attention to Adrianna.

"You're wearing a dress. Pirates don't wear dresses." He walked toward her as she frowned.

"I know. Mother wanted me to look my best for our first visit. I told her that I had to play pirates, but she wouldn't listen." She tugged at the fabric of her skirt with an annoyed look.

He thought for a moment before grabbing her hand and running upstairs. They stopped in front of Mycroft's door. "Myc! You'd better have pants on! We're coming in!" he opened the door without further hesitation.

Mycroft was sitting at his desk, reading the paper and sipping some tea. "Of course I have trousers on, Sherlock; I'm not you." Sherlock glared before lodging his complaint.

"Adrianna's wearing a dress." he said matter-of-factly. The older boy raised an eyebrow to the statement.

"Yes, I can see that. It's a very lovely one; good pick." He smiled at Adrianna. "You're looking well, Adrianna. I suspect you're doing marvelously in school?" She nodded shyly and mumbled something about straight A's as Mycroft turned his attention back to Sherlock. "Maybe some of her can-do attitude will rub off on you. I digress; she's wearing a dress. I thought you were aware: that's what girls do. What's your point, Lockie?"

"She can't be a pirate if she's got on a dress." Sherlock's tone remained steady despite his brother's sarcastic quips. Mycroft understood now.

"Right. Well, that is a bit of a difficult situation, isn't it?" He thought for a moment before continuing. "Why don't you lend her a pair of your shorts? That would be the simplest solution."

"That'll work," chimed in Adrianna. She didn't mind wearing boy's clothing. She had worn her own brother's pants and shirts before; they weren't all that different than lady's clothes.

Sherlock led her back to his room and began digging in his closet to find some shorts. Adrianna took the opportunity to look around and try to learn more about her friend. A violin stood against the wall- she wondered if his mother made him play as well. Then a stack of books came into view near his bed: all pirate stories (of course.) And lastly her eyes fell on a chess set near the window. It looked as though someone had stopped in the middle of a game for whatever reason.

She wandered around the middle of the room before hearing Sherlock exit the closet with a pair of grey shorts in hand. He threw them to her. "Here you go. I'll be in Myc's room when you're done. One door down on the right." With that, he headed into his brother's room.

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><p>Mycroft was getting annoyed by Sherlock's lack of courtesy, yet he didn't mind the company it provided. Sherlock tapped his brother on the shoulder, prompting him to place the paper on the table and turn around. "Yes, Lockie?"<p>

"Will you be the bad guy for us? I think I want Adrianna on my side. But it would get boring quickly if there were no scurvy dog to fight."

"Sherlock, Mummy doesn't like me promoting your pirate behavior. You know that." He gave his brother an apologetic look.

"Yes, but you always have fun when we play. I don't think you want to stay up here; you _want_ to play sword fight with us. You just pretend to be perfect for Mummy. It's all an act! Anyway, why do you always take her side?" Sherlock looked at Mycroft with an angry pout.

"I'll have you know I most certainly do not take her side on all issues." He rolled his eyes as the younger one continued his pout. "Fine, Lockie. Yes, I will be the bad guy."

Sherlock's eyes lit up. "Brilliant! You're going to be a Lieutenant of the East Indian Trading Company, ok? You've got to try and stop us from looting your supply of tobacco and rum, as well as the hidden stash of gold and treasure. Show no mercy." he excitedly patted his brother's back in repeatedly until Adrianna entered the room. "Myc is the bad guy. We've got to get our ship ready for an attack."

The two ran downstairs to make their preparations as Mycroft resumed reading the paper for a few minutes longer. Mummy was not going to be happy if Sherlock got hurt again - though the past incidents were hardly _his_ fault. Sherlock always seemed to over-jump his targets or forget that the force of gravity still indeed applied to the living room.

However, he got up to go ten minutes after the other two had left him. The lieutenant of the East Indian Trading Company couldn't chicken out in the face of Pirate Holmes and his first mate, Audrie.

By the time he got downstairs, Mycroft could hear the pirates creating a plan to raid his ship. He ducked into the room quickly, taking the pair by surprise.

"Captain Holmes; I presumed you would have made the first strike by now." He picked up a sword from the floor and in one swift movement moved forward to attack Sherlock. The younger boy was just as quick though, and brought his own sword up to defend.

"Ahhhhhh Lieutenant Mycroft. I was beginnin' ta wonder when ya'd show that ugly mug of yers." He brought the sword around for a strike to the stomach, but was blocked by his opposition. "Adrianna! Head for tha loot while I've got 'is hands tied here!" he shouted to his first mate.

"Aye aye, Captain!" she ran towards a fort they had built in a far corner of the room while the boys fought valiantly against one another.

This imagination theatre continued for another hour, ending with Captain Mycroft having to walk the plank into the icy cold sea. The trio was in a pile on the floor, the younger two resting their heads on the elder's shoulder and stomach. All three were tired, happy, and ready for dinner.

It took a few minutes to clean the room and return it to its former glory. Adrianna hurried to the washroom to fix her hair and remove Sherlock's shorts; the boys waited for her in the parlor, chatting about famous pirates and the possibility of finding sunken treasure. When she returned, they made their way toward the kitchen.

Both mothers greeted the children warmly, offering cucumber sandwiches and tea to stave off hunger until supper. Sherlock and Adrianna were wrapped up in a discussion over library books while Mycroft answered a barrage of questions about his future plans from the women.

At nearly six, Adrianna and her mother bid farewell to the Holmes family. Sherlock was a little sad that the day had to end, but Adrianna promised to come back and play again soon. She held his hand and gave it a squeeze while she said goodbye. He watched their car pull out of the driveway and cruise down the street before turning back to his house.


	4. Chapter 4: Friday

**A/N: **_Hey guys. This poor little fic hasn't been updated in a while, has it? Many apologies - school had effectively gotten in the way of everything I enjoyed doing, writing included. I've also got four other fics I'm working on, and this one seemed to go straight to the back burner in the wake of Johnlock stuff._

_I've only read over this chapter a couple times, myself, which... I don't know. I can't tell if it's good or not anymore. I'm hoping to close up the story in a couple more chapters. Maybe the seventh will be the final. We'll see. _

_As always, many thanks for reading; reviews are always loved but by no means necessary._

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><p>It was a lazy day today – Sherlock sat upside down on the parlor couch as Adrianna perched nearby, talking with Mycroft about school, dating, books, umbrellas, cake… <em>Do they never shut up?<em> The curly-haired boy shot icy looks at the pair, all of which went unnoticed. _Hopefully the blood will rush to my ears so I can drown this prattle out_. He closed his eyes and went to his "mind palace," as he deemed it, in order to escape the monotony of another boring Sunday.

"So you're going to go to college soon, huh Myc? Are you scared at all?" Adrianna was completely enthralled with Mycroft. If Sherlock hadn't known better, he would have thought she had a crush on him; fortunately he felt secure that the older brother wasn't her type, so the topic was never brought up.

Mycroft cleared his throat a bit before responding. "Well… I can't say that _scared_ is the proper word. I would label it as more of… unsure of exactly how to feel. I'm split in my priorities – it makes everything quite difficult to categorize into 'secure' and 'insecure.' Or 'scared,' what have you." He smiled as she watched him with wide eyes.

"Mary is fairly scared of it; then again, she's got no clue what she wants to do. You're going to do government things though, right? Politics and whatnot. Sherlock told me about it once." The mention of his name made Sherlock turn right-side up in an effort to respond. However, the rush of blood from his brain was overwhelming, and he elected to double over in pain instead.

"Alright, Sherlock?" Mycroft watched the boy flop over on the floor, milking the moment for all it was worth. The elder boy raised his eyebrows as Sherlock groaned in agony; a look of worry crept across Adrianna's face. "Never you worry, my dear. He's fine." Mycroft walked over to roll his brother onto his back with a foot.

"Get your fat foot off of me, you prat." Sherlock mumbled through his hands. Mycroft nudged him roughly in the side before backing away. The sound of pain which escaped the younger boy's mouth was certainly real this time.

"Do grow up, Lockie." Mycroft stated while resuming his position in the armchair. His little brother quickly leapt from the floor and ran towards him, prepared to attack. Adrianna watched with horrified eyes as he cocked back a fist. Fortunately, Mrs. Holmes entered the room, stopping the violence without a word about it.

"Adrianna, dear, you're ride is here. Be sure to gather all your things; it's been a pleasure to have you over." She smiled as the young girl got up to get her coat.

"The pleasure's been all mine, ma'am. Really, thanks. Bye Myc! Bye Sherlock!" Adrianna called out as she left the home. Sherlock ran after her to say a proper goodbye outside.

"Adrianna! Wait!" The girl turned around to face him with a smile across her face. "I just wanted to say thanks for coming over. I do wish Mycroft would have buggered off so we could have played together."

"Awwww. Be nice, Sherly. He's your brother, and by the looks of it, he's going to be the only one you ever have. " Adrianna gave a teasing smile. "Maybe you could come to my birthday party? You don't have to bring your brother, and we'd have plenty of time to play together."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "A party? Meaning numerous others will be attending as well, I assume?" His suspicions were confirmed with a small nod.

"Not too many people; there'd be me, Mary of course, Emily – the painter in fourth grade, Richard from your class, Crispin – he's the one who loves robots, Suzie, and maybe Scarlett. Her parents grounded her, I'm not sure if she's coming."

Though he didn't enjoy the idea of having to share Adrianna's time with others, he did know she'd be angry with him for days if he didn't go. But still… Richard and Suzie? They were quite annoying separate and all but intolerable when together. Sherlock huffed before answering. "Fine. I'll go."

Adrianna gave Sherlock a big hug. "Oh thank you Sherlock! Thank you! I didn't think you'd actually want to go!" He flushed a shade of pink and stood rigid in her embrace before finally wrapping his arms around her, melting into her light touch.

"I'd do anything for you." He whispered before she broke the hug to look at him with doe eyes. Sherlock retained his composure against her surprised expression, though inside he was trembling. He'd never said anything so serious to _anyone _before- not Mummy or Mycroft and especially not Father. But he meant it; he would do anything to keep Adrianna happy.

She turned red and gaped at him for a moment before looking down and grabbing at the hem of her skirt. "Th… Thank you." A small smile crept back across her face, replaced by fear as the car horn sounded behind the pair. "I better get going." Adrianna tucked some hair behind her ear before leaning in to give Sherlock a peck on the cheek. "Party is on Saturday. See you then." And with that, she made a beeline to the car.

Sherlock stood, awestruck, as he watched her ride drive away. He brought a hand up to his cheek and lightly touched the spot she had planted a kiss, turning a deeper shade of pink as he turned around to find Mycroft standing on the porch.

"Well. Quite an interesting development." The older Holmes looked up to the sky. "Looks as if it's going to rain today. Come inside, Lockie. Mother's finished preparing supper." He turned back to the house, smiling. Perhaps Adrianna would be the one to save Sherlock from himself.

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><p>It was already Friday afternoon. Rain drizzled gently outside, creating minuscule rivers across the windowpanes. Mycroft sat in his room, alone for now, waiting for the hours to fly by so he could settle in to bed. Today had been nothing but trouble and had taken quite a toll on his mind. He cradled his head in his hands as the day's events flashed through his thoughts.<p>

Mycroft had gotten up early for a meeting of the School Governmental Council; it wasn't a particularly exciting duty, but he was looking forward to it. If there was one thing he had a passion for, it would be politics. He held position of president on the council, though he would have preferred to play the part of vice president. It was much easier to stay out of the public eye when you didn't have to address the student body once per month. And when you're not the center of attention, you have much more room to exercise power.

After straightening his tie in the mirror, the boy had headed downstairs for breakfast. He walked in on Sherlock receiving a beating from Father before school; apparently the young one had mouthed off again. Mycroft felt the shock spread across his face and shoot like ice through his veins as Father delivered one, two, three… five… nine blows to the boy with both sides of his hand. Sherlock refused to show any emotion, simply staring into space as his face was roughly moved from side to side. He was held by the front of his shirt, slung backwards a bit to prevent any struggle as he endured blow after blow. He saw Myc standing in the doorway and made pleading eyes. _Save me. Please. Help me._

The silent request lit a fire in the older brother's stomach; he rushed to force himself between his little brother and father, who screamed abuse and let loose a few more hits at the both of them before sodding off down the hallway. The silence lingering in the scene's aftermath was far more deafening than the yelling had ever been.

Mycroft tenderly led a dazed and bloodied Sherlock upstairs to his room. After sitting him on the end of the bed, he went to fetch a washcloth and basin of water. He'd make sure to get ice once the young boy calmed down. Upon reentering the bedroom, he found his brother staring at the wounds in the mirror, delicately tracing the already-forming bruises and bumps in disbelief. His eyes flickered to Myc, who could only give the young boy a heartbroken frown. Sherlock decided it would be ok to let loose his tears, sobbing openly with his head hung, shoulders shaking as he fell apart.

"W-why does he… Do that? Why does he hate me, Myc? I… I d-didn't ask to be b-born. I just… I just… it was an accident! I was an accident! I didn't mean to be the way I am! Honestly! I've tried to be… normal… I just… he s-said something about me and I couldn't stop the words, Myc. They just came out. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I can't be good." The younger boy fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands. Mycroft felt his heart shatter to a million tiny shards; he was certain he'd never be able to put the pieces back together after witnessing this.

"Lockie… Don't apologize." His voice was calm and tender, though the emotions inside made the speech waver quite a bit. "I'm the one who should apologize. I'm sorry I can't always protect you. I thought the beatings would stop once Father had sobered up a bit. I thought that if I distracted him with my own achievements while you tried to find your own path, he'd forget about whatever animosity he bears toward you. I'm so sorry, my dear brother, that I failed you." Mycroft took the trembling form on the floor into his arms, letting the boy weep into his shoulder for the better part of seven minutes.

Sherlock was led back to the bed in order to have his wounds properly cleaned; there wasn't much blood, but the fact that he had bled even an ounce had the older brother in a rage. Mycroft suppressed his feelings as he delicately dabbed at the cuts and bruises across the young one's face. Sherlock stared at him with eyes full of pain and confusion, wincing every so often at the feeling of cool water contacting warm wounds.

"Myc… I'm so alone in this world. No one seems to care." Sherlock offered no tears as he said this, though it was apparent they were still fighting to surface.

"Sherlock. If you choose not to listen to anything else that crosses my lips for the rest of our natural lives, then so be it. But please remember this: You are _loved_. And you always will be loved. I promise you, life will not remain in this horrid state forever. You are going to find other people who love you, too. People like Adrianna, who would never do a thing to hurt you." Mycroft placed his hands on Sherlock's shoulders as he continued. "One day… you are going to do magnificent things. And you are going to hypnotize someone with this unique personality of yours; completely and utterly captivate them with every movement you make, every thought you create, and every word you speak."

"Are you suffering from a sugar withdrawal?" Sherlock smiled half-heartedly at his brother. The bruises were already darkening, making his blue-green eyes shockingly bright against the purple tones. Mycroft smiled for a moment at his brother's attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'm serious, Lockie. Just don't give up. Perhaps for now, it would be best to begin reminding yourself that caring isn't always an advantage. Sympathy and sentiment make physical pain such as this so much worse in the end. It makes emotional scars and trauma quite unbearable as well. Caring fogs the mind and renders one paralyzed in high-tension situations; if you stop caring, you allow yourself to manage any circumstance calmly and flawlessly."

"I've come to my own conclusions based on my… _relationship_… with father. Sentiment _is_ a chemical defect found on the losing side. The whole reason he beats me is because he can't keep up his own expectations of life - he wants two perfect sons, a perfect wife, and a perfect household. He _cares_ what other people think about him, and that's his utter downfall. If he _didn't_ care… then he wouldn't feel the need to take out anger… on anyone." Sherlock's expression had calmed by this point.

Mycroft smiled solemnly at the young boy. "I couldn't agree more. However, we can wonder all we want about how things _could_ or _should_ be, yet it wouldn't get us any closer to becoming happy with life. For now, let's endure this torture. In a year, I'll be moved out of the house for university." Sherlock looked up with a devastated expression, wondering why his brother would bring up such a thing at this time. "I have been thinking that perhaps I could convince mother to let you come live with me. I do know she's been looking into transferring you to a new school – thought a change of scenery would convince you to begin attending regularly."

"And? What did she say?"

"She told me she would consider it. I'm not honestly sure what she will decide to do; she doesn't want to lose both her boys in the same night, yet she does know you'd be better off in a home where Father couldn't touch you." Mycroft finished cleaning off Sherlock's face, hoping he wouldn't bruise too badly. It seemed inevitable though, as the purple splotches were already beginning to overwhelm his appearance. "For now, let's focus on doing our best in school, shall we? As long as you begin regularly attending classes and showing an effort to be self-reliant, I'm sure she'll say yes to our proposal."

Sherlock frowned. "Do you think I'll be able to go to Adrianna's party tomorrow?" Mycroft smiled and shook his head. It seemed his little brother was, yet again, choosing to ignore his suggestions.

"We'll have to see how bad the bruising gets. Until then, just stay in your room and occupy yourself somehow. I'll bring ice up in twenty minutes. And behave yourself, Sherlock." He had noted a mischievous look spread across the boy's face, eyes dancing with excitement. "Provoking Father will merely result in a worse punishment."

"Mmm." Sherlock had given brother a small hug before leaving the room in a trance.

Mycroft couldn't prevent a sigh from escaping him. He curled into bed as the memory came to a close. He desperately hoped all would work out, though he couldn't ignore the fleeting bit of doubt which crossed his mind. In an attempt to ignore it, he pulled the duvet over his eyes and waited for sleep to overtake him.


End file.
